When Words Fail
by Fingersnaps
Summary: Gibbs makes an agonising choice, then has to live with the consequences.    Author's Note: In a previous story of mine Tim's family was murdered...this is set in a time frame after those events...
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The squad room was quiet this morning; quiet as it had been every morning since that day, the day when a simple operation had gone wrong, so badly wrong, when the team he had worked with, who had been at his side through good and bad, the team he had fought so hard to keep together, had shattered forever.

He knew Ziva was watching him; it felt like everyone was watching him these days, wondering how long he could hold it together. If they only knew, he wasn't holding it together at all, every night down in his basement, he fell apart. Replayed those fateful moments over and over in his mind, downed another glass, or two of bourbon, fell into a restless, booze-induced sleep. Then every morning he went through the rituals of getting clean, put on fresh clothes, donned the façade of able team leader and turned up for work. He'd avoided the squad room for as long as he was able, but eventually he had to come back, to be confronted by two empty desks.

One of the desks would be occupied later today; Tony was coming back, desk duties only for a week, then another medical assessment, but he was coming back…

Ziva put down her phone, glanced over at Gibbs, shook her head, and gave a sad little smile.

"There is no news Gibbs, but we should not give up hope."

Hope...that was all they had left... The vain hope that Tim would turn up somewhere, with no memory of who he was, but how often did that happen in the real world? No, Gibbs knew it, and he knew the others knew it too, but none of them would say it aloud, the only thing they could expect now was that one day Tim's body would wash up on the shore.

He'd left someone behind, one of his people, and that was eating him away inside. But he had to carry on, for Tony and Ziva, even for Ducky and Jimmy; but most of all for Abby. Her lab had become a silent place, no music, not even the dirges she had played after Kate...he had to steel himself to go down there, the look in her eyes, that fleeting millisecond of hope, followed by absolute despair, it tore at his very soul. She refused to accept that Tim was gone, hence no dirge, but her life had changed without him, and she couldn't bar to listen to her own music...Gibbs had tried to bring her round, to convince her that Tim was gone, but she had raised her tear filled eyes to his, and the accusation was there for all to see. Gibbs had come home, Ziva too, Tony was battered, but still here, Tim...she wanted Tim, it was also the one thing in the world she wanted...and that was the one thing in the world he couldn't get for her.

It should have been a simple arrest; NCIS had been tracking these men for months. Weapons, supposedly de-commissioned weapons had been going missing and they had finally got a lead on who was behind the operation. The trail had led Gibbs and his team deep into the Virginia countryside, and they had found the cabin being used to store the weapons without difficulty.

Gibbs had tried to remember exactly how the operation had gone so badly wrong, so fast. But try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint when he lost sight of Tony and Tim, he saw Ziva lying on the ground, ran to check on her, turned around, and he couldn't see them. He heard more gunshots; fired off four rounds, two men dropped and then he heard it.

"Boss! Over here!"

He'd raced over to the sound and felt the air rush from his lungs as he saw the hands grasping at the crumbling earth at the river's edge. They were both clinging on for their very lives, and in that instant, when the world was suddenly in ultra sharp focus; he saw that Tony was bleeding, the blood seeping through his sleeve. His grip was loosening, and Gibbs made his choice, he had reached out his hand for Tony and pulled him to the safety of firm ground, away from the foaming white water of the James River below.

He'd made his choice, and Tim was gone; missing presumed dead, now all they had left was hope. But Gibbs knew better, the river had taken Tim, Gibbs' last glimpse of him had been of eyes full of panic and pain, panic as the current dragged him under one last time, and pain because Gibbs had let him fall…had seen his outstretched hand, heard his pleas for help, and chosen Tony.


	2. Chapter 2

The first days after Tim went missing had passed in a blur of hope, despair, denial…he couldn't be gone, not Tim, he'd turn up, a little battered, in need of help, but he'd turn up, he had to…

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Tim's desk, but Gibbs wasn't seeing the desk, he was living again those first frantic hours after Tim had gone. Tony and Ziva had been taken to the hospital, and he was out there searching, calling, Vance had arranged for a search team to join him, but there were only three hours of daylight left, and Gibbs didn't need anyone to tell him that time was of the essence, if Tim was lying, injured…or worse…no, he couldn't think that way…two more hours of daylight, they'd find him, he had to be here somewhere…Ducky called from the hospital, they were keeping Ziva in overnight, slight concussion; Tony's bullet wound was not serious, but would keep him out of action for a while…

"Jethro…what do I tell Abigail?"

"No news Duck…nothing…but there's time…"

But time ran out, the darkness closed in, and Vance called off the search for the day. Gibbs wanted to stay, they could get arc lights, they could get a police helicopter with a searchlight…he didn't need Vance to over rule him, Gibbs knew they wouldn't find Tim in the dark, and the searchers needed rest, they'd be back at first light, ready to begin again.

They had searched so hard; the next morning, the first full day without Tim. The team had assembled at first light to scour the river, hour after hour they trudged the banks, desperate for any sign.

Gibbs was startled out of his reverie as Ziva handed him a cup of coffee, he smiled his thanks. She seemed to think that if she had him mainlining caffeine he'd make it through another day. He knew that Tim's disappearance had hit Ziva as hard as any of them, she may try to hide it, the way he was trying to hide it, but he'd seen the depth of her despair that Wednesday morning. She had refused to stay longer that the requisite overnight stay in hospital; she had joined the search, and spent the whole day combing the river side without success. It was almost too dark to see, but Ziva didn't want to stop looking...this would be his second night alone, and Tim may love the outdoors, but if he was hurt...he needed them; they needed him...

"Come on Ziva, time to call it a day."

"But Gibbs..."

Even in the half-light Ziva could see the despair in Gibbs' eyes. He didn't want to stop, but he knew they would find nothing tonight...

They had searched again the next day, deep down they knew that hope was fading, but they couldn't give up, it was too soon, if he was injured, he could have gone further into the woodland, they wouldn't give up, not yet. Ducky was keeping Gibbs informed on Tony's recovery…and on Abby. She had held it together that first day and night, but as time passed, and there was no evidence for her, she had become increasing agitated, and eventually Ducky got her sedated and had her move in with him until they heard news. Tony was doing well, physically, but he had been desperate to join the search, an idea that was vetoed by his doctor, and by Ducky.

On the fourth day Gibbs returned to NCIS, he couldn't return to the squad room, not yet. So he gave his report to Director Vance and hid himself away in Abby's lab, trying to gather his courage to tell Abby that the search was being scaled down. He had been the last to admit it, but deep down he knew they were all right, Tim was gone, they weren't looking for him any longer…they were looking for his body.

Then the very next day, there had been hope, a man answering Tim's general description had been admitted to Retreat Hospital in Richmond he had been found by the side of the road, unconscious. Gibbs and Ziva raced over to see him, both of them not daring to voice their hopes…but it wasn't Tim, the guy didn't even look that much like him, and his eyes were brown, not the clear green they had been praying they would see. He drove back to DC more slowly than he had driven anywhere for a long time. He'd made the mistake of telling the others there could be some good news…now he had to face them and tell them, he almost wished the drive back would never end…

Yesterday had seen him back in Virginia, back by the river, pounding out mile after fruitless mile. Gibbs knew it was useless, but he'd woken in his basement again that morning, and the prospect of spending his Sunday doing anything other than search was one he was not prepared to contemplate. He had told no one what he was going to do, so he was amazed, and moved beyond belief to find Vance out here, and it seemed like every other NCIS agent who was off duty this weekend had come to try one last time. He didn't have the words to tell them what this meant to him, but one day, he would make sure they knew.

The day had ended as every other day had ended, they had come up empty handed, it had been their last, forlorn hope, they had given it everything they could, and now he sat here, nursing his coffee, waiting for Tony…he shouldn't really be back yet, but Gibbs could understand only too well why Tony didn't want to be alone, they were better together, stronger as a team. No, not a team any longer, they were a man down…

Tony stared at the elevator doors, any minute now he'd be back in the squad room, he could feel his heart beating faster, maybe this had all been a bad dream, and when the doors opened Tim would be there, laughing at Tony's discomfort.

"Surprise Tony! Had you fooled this time!"

He shook his head and took several deep breaths as he tried to get himself together to face Gibbs and Ziva…and that empty desk.

Tony had wanted to join the search, as soon as he'd woken up after his surgery, and with the pain meds doing their job, he wanted to get out there and help. Ducky was having none of it.

"You need time to recover Anthony; it will do no one any good if you make yourself ill."

So he went home to 'rest', but how do you rest when one of the people who had worked alongside you for almost seven years was missing?

They kept him in the loop, but as the hours turned into days, as the search for a survivor turned into the search for a body, Tony felt as if he was suffocating under a blanket of guilt. If Gibbs had reached for Tim instead...if...Tony was stronger, maybe he could have held on longer, or climbed up the river bank. But the water was running so fast, and when he felt Gibbs' hand pulling him up Tony had held on tight and scrambled to safety. The instant he was on firm ground Gibbs had gone back for Tim, but as Tony lay gasping for breath, he heard Tim's cry and saw Gibbs' frantic race along the ravine's edge...Tim was gone.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened; he started to cross the squad room floor. Taking care to look directly ahead, desperate not to make eye contact with any of the other agents he made his way briskly to his desk. He couldn't talk to anyone outside the team, not yet...it was taking all his willpower to walk to his own desk and face Gibbs and Ziva.

They struggled through the day, mostly trying to find refuge from well meaning, but unwanted sympathy. Ducky let them spend part of the day in Autopsy, they had no 'visitors' right now, and in honesty Ducky was pleased to have living people around him. It was hard not to imagine Timothy's body lying on his table…a tiny part of him wished that he had been able to have Timothy here…better for him to have come home, than to be out in the ocean heaven knows where…

Gibbs took Tony down to the lab, and stood aside as Abby held Tony close and cried as if her heart would break. Tony had no words of comfort for her, but he returned her embrace and let his own tears flow freely. Gibbs wished he could cry, would he feel any better if he did? Probably not…and maybe it was better not to feel at all…he could function, right now that had to be enough, because he had nothing more to offer.

They all left work early that day, the emotional strain was getting harder, not easier, and Ducky had told Director Vance that his MCRT needed more time before they could get back to active duty.

"I understand Doctor. Agent McGee was a good man, a very good agent; we're all going to miss him."

Ducky found himself unable to reply, so often these last days, thinking of Timothy had rendered him speechless, the normally endless flow of words silenced by his loss.

"Doctor, would you ask Gibbs and the others, Ms Sciuto and yourself included to come to my office 09.30 tomorrow?"

They were all assembled in Vance's office, the Director had been delayed in MTAC, and they sat in silence…it seemed so hard to find anything to say, it felt as if the heart and soul of the team had been torn away. The door opened and Vance put a file on his desk and sat down at the table beside Gibbs.

"Before you ask, I'm not here to talk about a replacement…I think we all need more time to get used to the idea that Agent McGee is gone…I'm standing you down temporarily as MCRT, at least until Agent DiNozzo gets the all-clear."

The fact that there was no objection forthcoming from any of them demonstrated the wisdom of Vance's suggestion. They had enough to deal with right now without taking on a major case. He took a deep breath and glanced around the table before trying out his next suggestion, this he knew, was going to be much harder for them to take

"That's not the main reason I called you all together. Several people have asked me, including my wife…they feel, well, they feel it's time we said goodbye to Agent McGee…"

"No! No way! You are not having a funeral, not until we find him; he's out there somewhere, I know he is!"

Ducky grabbed Abby's hand, and pulled her close to him.

"Hush my dear; I'm sure the Director was not thinking of a funeral…"

"No, but I think maybe, a memorial service, give people an opportunity to come together and…"

Tony was on his feet.

"We said no!"

He ran out of the room, gulping air into his lungs, he felt sick…they couldn't do this, it was too soon…he wouldn't agree, couldn't...If he did, then he would have to stop believing in that sliver of hope he was holding on to that Tim might still come back. That he would have the opportunity to tell him what a jerk he had been...that he was so sorry that their last words had been angry words.

It had been Tony's fault, he knew that. Ever since his dad had told him what Gibbs had said...the best young agent I ever worked with...Tony had been on Tim's case, and the drive out to the cabin had been too good an opportunity to miss.

"Face it McGee, you're not better than Ziva, so that puts you third on the list, no wait, maybe lower...I mean Stan Burley, Gibbs liked him; you're getting lower in the poll."

"Tony! Enough!"

Gibbs was trying to concentrate on the twisting country road.

"So help me, if you don't knock it off, I'll slap the both of you!"

Tim was even angrier now.

"Me? What did I do?"

He looked across to see Tony grinning; he'd made his point, again. Tim had that look of disappointed resignation on his face that he always got when Gibbs seemed to support Tony over him; and it was that look that Tony couldn't get out of his head now. How could he say goodbye before he had chance to say sorry?

Vance had agreed not to broach the idea of a memorial service again until Ducky gave him the all clear, and Ducky had no idea how long it would take before his friends could bring themselves to admit that Timothy wasn't coming back, he didn't want to believe it, and as a medical examiner of many years standing, he knew the odds on Timothy's body being found.

They had all decided to go for a quiet drink after work, to try and talk about the things they had steadfastly held inside, perhaps in a neutral environment they may be able to begin the process of moving on… Ducky had asked if Jimmy could join them.

"He's taken this badly Jethro, nothing like this has ever happened to him before."

"He should come Duck…he's one of us."

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony were switching off their computers, waiting for the others, this was going to be a tough evening for all of them, but maybe it could also be the start of some healing…

"Gibbs! They said you were still here, you have to see this!"

"Fornell?"

He ran from the elevator and thrust an evidence bag into Gibbs' hand. Gibbs took one look and the colour drained from his face.

"Where...where did you get this?"

Gibbs found that his legs suddenly didn't have the strength to hold him upright; he dropped into his chair as the others rushed to see what Fornell had brought in to cause such a reaction.

They stared at the contents of the evidence bag and Tony felt the room start to spin. He reached out and picked up the bag; inside was a gold badge, and the scorched remains of an ID card, Special Agent Timothy McGee...how was this possible?

"Jethro, are you okay?"

Fornell had expected a reaction, but nothing as extreme as this.

"Where Tobias?"

"Did you see on the news about the joint ATF, FBI raid in Chesterfield County, the gun running ring?"

"Sure, big gun battle, no survivors...I saw it...was Tim there?"

Fornell shook his head quickly.

"Everyone was accounted for Gibbs, no unidentified...all the bodies were...no sign of McGee..."

"Then where did you get this? That raid was four days ago."

"They got wind of the raid, not in time for them to escape, but they burned everything that might give us any leads...it's taken us days to even start sifting through the evidence...the lab found this today."

Gibbs couldn't take his eyes off the badge, he tried to remember how far from the river the raid had taken place, had the badge been discovered by the river? Had Tim been taken somewhere? There was still no way of knowing whether Tim had been found, or just his badge...

"Jethro, there's more...they had cameras all around the site, we have these DVDs, could be security footage, but they're damaged, our techs reckon beyond repair. I figured if your man could be on these, your people will find him."

In that instant, Fornell had given Gibbs and his team a new purpose, if the river hadn't taken Tim, then where was he?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

"Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

The desperate scream echoed around the metal walls, mocking the lone occupant of the pitch dark room.

He opened his eyes, they were there, he couldn't see them, but he knew they were there, on the edges of his vision, waiting until he fell asleep again. He tried so hard not to sleep, but he was so tired; and thirsty, he was always thirsty. The men had left him some water…but that was…with a trembling hand he pressed the dial on his watch; the faint luminescence a momentary gleam of light in the stygian gloom…seven days ago. They'd promised to come back for him, but they lied; just like Gibbs, a Marine thing he always said, I do not leave my people…

"You left me Gibbs…why?"

He'd asked that question every day…but there was never an answer; only those cold blue eyes watching him fall, hearing his cries for help, and doing nothing… He could hear the roaring water all round him; hear his own screams as he begged someone to reach for him... then he was silenced as the water filled his mouth, his nose...

Tim had tried many times to remember exactly what happened in those terrifying minutes as the current dragged him downstream, It was like a kaleidoscope of disconnected images, sensations, he went under several times, he remembered the choking as he managed to raise his head above water again and again…why didn't he drown? It would have been better, quicker than this slow death…

He did remember pain, lots of pain, then nothing…he didn't know how long he was unconscious…then he heard voices, and his heart leapt in his chest; Gibbs had come for him! But it wasn't Gibbs, he tried to look, but the men were turning him over, going through his pockets, he felt their hands on him, his leg, the pain, he tried to tell them.

"Please…my leg, I need help, please…"

But there was no help here.

"Well look at this, we caught ourselves a Fed!"

"Oh Man, the Colonel's gonna love this. Come on, he's pretty beat up but it could be useful to have one of their men…might take the edge off not getting those weapons."

They had patched him up, and Tim thought they were going to help him, but they'd only done it so that they could ask him questions, endless, pointless questions about a raid on their property...he didn't know anything...but they wouldn't believe him. They'd put a hood over his head, determined that he wouldn't know where he was, or who was asking the questions, that was the first time he was in darkness...but it hadn't been the last. Three men, he could tell from the voices, but one didn't stay long, just long enough to ask him more pointless questions.

"Where do you want him Colonel?"

"Keep him secure, somewhere they won't think to look, there's no need to tell me where, you know my policy, let's keep this on a strictly need to know basis. Just make sure we can get to him fast if we need him."

"Yes sir!"

He didn't know whether it was day or night, he was powerless, so much pain, his head pounding, they'd bandaged his leg…one of them, Ray, that was his name, he wanted to get medical help for Tim, but the other guy refused.

"We have our orders, keep him secure. I know the perfect place; we'll take him at first light."

He remembered being dragged to a car, he thought he'd tried to get away...But he couldn't...he was too weak...always too weak...Next thing he knew he was being manhandled down a ladder, he heard the squeal of a metal door and then he was being laid on the ground.

"Keep that hood on 'til you hear the door close. There's water right by you, and a bucket in the corner. We'll be back in a few days, sooner if the Colonel needs you."

Tim felt something against his hand and Ray whispered.

"It's a flashlight, only small, but better than nothing…."

A loud crash signalled the closing of the door and he heard bolts being pulled across. He was alone.

He had tried to find a way to get out of here, by the weak beam of the flashlight he had checked the door, but that was locked. He'd examined the walls inch by inch, but as far as he could tell they were solid metal, the seams welded tight, no way out there. There was debris all over the floor, old dirty blankets, broken bits of machinery, cans, everything covered with dust; this place hadn't been used in a long time. He stopped to rest...to take a small sip of water, had to make it last, it could take a day or two for Gibbs to find him...at least, that's what he had thought back then. Now, he knew better, Gibbs had let him fall, he wasn't coming.

But in those first days he still had hope, and his body still had the strength to allow him to move around, there was pain it was true, but he could deal with that...so he tried the door again, could he find something to open the door? They'd taken his knife, taken everything; all they'd left him were the tattered remnants of the clothes he was wearing, and his watch... Tim looked at his watch again...he'd been so pleased when he got it, and couldn't wait to show Abby. She had laughed indulgently at his enthusiasm.

"You and your toys Timmy!"

Now it wasn't a toy any longer, it was simply a machine to count the hours until someone came for him, or until his death...

He was so hot, he tried to take off his jacket, but he couldn't get his hands to work, he was shaking so much, he couldn't even do that.

"Please...somebody...help me..."

The voice sounded so unlike his own that he had a brief moment of hope that he wasn't alone in here any longer, that someone else had been put in here while he was asleep. But there was no one...

At first he had been sure that Gibbs would come for him, but as the hours and days passed, as his meagre supply of water ran out, the realisation crept up on him. No one was coming…the men who had locked him down here, they'd promised to come for him, to send him back to NCIS. But they didn't come, he knew that his leg was getting worse; it throbbed all the time and felt like it was on fire. It hurt to breathe, he couldn't even get to the bucket any longer, he was lying in his own filth and he couldn't do a thing about it. He could only lie on this stinking floor and wait to die…but he hadn't been left in peace, he didn't know how long he had been in here when his tormenters first came, but since then they had come relentlessly, day after endless day, stabbing at his leg with red hot needles, crushing his chest, hammering on his head. In turns whispering, then shrieking at the top of their voices, always telling him how he had failed them, how he should be dead in their place,; never giving him a moment's respite.

There were so many…he had hurt so many people. The first had been Kate, his sweet super hero…she had come to him, that hole in her forehead no longer delicately concealed by Ducky, but dark and raw.

"Why me Tim? You were his first target. If Ari had hit you, would he have come for me? Maybe your death would have been enough that day…"

"I didn't even know he was aiming for me Kate, I never wanted you to die…you know that."

"Then what about the others? The ones you killed…they're all here, listen…"

"I was getting my life together McGee, then you had to misread a situation, Probie mistake…and I end up dead in an alley, never got my second chance."

"Benedict; was it my bullet? I always figured it was, Abby never could tell, but deep down, I knew…you have every right to hate me…I thought you were firing at me, I was wrong."

"You make a habit of being wrong don't you McGee? Did you ever stop to think how wrong it was to use real people as characters in your stupid books…look at us, dead because you were too lazy to come up with your own ideas…you might as well have pushed that javelin in my heart yourself, my wife cried herself to sleep for weeks."

"And did you ever think about my parents…they waited for my visit, even though they knew I wasn't coming, sure they knew I was dead, but they didn't want to believe it, so they waited for me, and I never came…"

He couldn't argue with them, if he hadn't used them in his book, Adrian Corbett and Petty Officer. Cove would still be enjoying life today…he was reeling under this onslaught, already weak from lack of food, suffering the effects of his injuries, and bone weary, he was in no condition to argue with his accusers. Tim tried to curl up in a corner, to hide away from them, but they followed him, whispering, shouting, a constant clamour in his head…but at last there was a friendly face.

"Jim?"

"Trying to hide McGee? It's your own stupid fault that you're in the dark, they left you a flashlight, but you couldn't even keep that going."

Jim was right about that, and Tim had tried to be so careful with the light, to use it sparingly, so that he could try and find a way out…but he had fallen asleep with the light on, and when he woke, he had been in total darkness, and it had been that way ever since, and it was his own fault, he was useless.

"Just like back in FLETC, if I hadn't been there, holding your hand, you'd still be waiting to qualify."

"Not true…you helped, sure you did, but I would have made it…"

Tim could hear the doubt in his own voice, could he have made it alone? It was true what he'd told Abby back when Jim died, but that was more about Jim being a friend, about supporting each other when things got tough…not about being spoon-fed information.

The whisperer wasn't done.

"You know what I think? You deserve to die; you've been living on borrowed time ever since Gibbs got you off call that weekend."

The voice was getting louder and louder, booming around the walls.

"It wasn't our time; my wife should still have a husband. Who'd miss you if you were dead? No one that's who, your team hasn't even come for you, they could care less. You should have died that day; it should have been you McGee!"

His name echoed around the bunker and he covered his ears with his hands.

"Stop Jim, please stop…"

Like a mantra, Tim said the words over and over, but all he could hear was Jim's tormented cry.

"It should have been you!"

But he didn't want to die, not here, not like this. He had to stay alive, to try and atone for all the wrongs he had done; he had to make things right, somehow he had to try to be a better person. So he had to stay alive until they found him, he couldn't last much longer, he'd drunk the last of his water yesterday and he knew he was already on borrowed time, without water a healthy man can live…he knew this, he'd read it, so he knew it…if only the voices would let him think…up to ten days, that was it…for a healthy man, problem was, he was anything but healthy. In his brief moments of clarity, when the voices left him alone, he knew that he was really sick.

He must have drifted into unconsciousness again; because he woke with a start to a sound he never expected to hear in this place, running water…he must be dreaming.

He listened carefully…to his left, he took as deep a breath as he was able, gasped as the pain stabbed into his chest, but he gritted his teeth and dragged himself across the floor. He lifted his hand to the metal wall…it was wet, frantic now, he tried to cup his hand, to catch some of the life-saving water, he managed to get a few drops into his mouth…it wasn't enough, how could he get more? The empty bottles! They were round here somewhere…strengthened by his new purpose he ignored the searing pain in his leg and inched his way around the room, patting at the floor as he went, they were here somewhere, they had to be…he could feel the panic rising, what if the water stopped running before he found them? No, he couldn't think like that, they were here…his hand touched something new, yes! One of the bottles…he picked it up and with another grimace as his leg protested against the movement he turned around to go back to the water. He heard the hollow sound of another bottle as he disturbed it with his elbow, he grabbed that one, and inched his way to the wall.

His breathing was so shallow now, not simply because of the pain in his chest, but because of the tension, the rising panic that he would be too late, what if the water stopped before he'd filled the bottles? He tried to breathe deeper, slower, to fill his lings with much needed oxygen, to stop the trembling in his hands so that he could hold the bottles without spilling…He managed to half-fill one bottle and get a little water in the other one before what he had been dreading came about, the water stopped. No matter, he had managed to capture some…it would keep him alive a little longer…and maybe it would rain again…he took a few sips…it was so hard not to gulp it down, he managed to control the trembling in his hands so that he could replace the cap on the bottle and allowed his exhausted body to collapse onto the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Abby was working on the DVDs, the mental exhaustion they had all been feeling earlier that day had fallen away as soon as they had something to work on. The music was on again, not loud, but it was on in the background. She had something to do at last; she'd find something to lead them to Tim.

Already, she had found a partial print on Tim's ID and was running that through AFIS. But she wasn't sitting waiting for that, Fornell had told her she wouldn't find anything, but if there was the tiniest chance that Tim was on here, she was not about to give up on him...

Caf-Pow in hand Gibbs stood behind Abby, she was so engrossed in her work that she hadn't heard him come in. The ding from her computer tore her attention away from the DVD.

"Gibbs! How did you know? Stupid question Abby…"

The image on the screen was of a Maryland PD arrest record, Ray Kingsley, two arrests, one conviction for selling an illegal assault pistol.

"Go get him Gibbs; he can take us to Tim!"

Gibbs gently put his hand on Abby's shoulder.

"Abs, Kingsley was at the compound when it was raided..."

Her hand flew to her mouth.

"No Gibbs! No...he can't be dead...he has to tell us..."

Gibbs enveloped her in a hug and whispered.

"He could still tell us something Abs; we need to get his phone records, emails..."

"Yes! But Gibbs, I'm working in the disks. I have to see if Tim's on them, I have to know...no, it's okay, I can do this..."

"Abby, calm down. You don't have to do this alone, Tony and Ziva can work on the phone records, if there's anything online, we can get help...you concentrate on what you're doing, okay?"

_NCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCIS_

"_Remember that phone call Agent McGee?"_

_He knew that voice…oh no…Erin. The first fatal error he had made, but sadly, not the last._

"_Don't Erin…I know I let you down."_

"_Let me down! You let me die! Why did it take you so long to get across the street, what were you waiting for?"_

"_I got there as soon as I could."_

"_Still too late, you could have stopped him, maybe even saved me, but you were too late. Always the same, coming up short; why should I expect any different? You couldn't even protect your own family, why would I expect you to save me? Too late, always too late."_

_She joined the others crowding around him, taunting him with his catalogue of failures. He begged them to stop, to let him have a moment's rest; he was so very tired…_

_Then he saw her, she would help him sleep, just as she had done when he woke from a bad dream, she would comfort him, as she did every time he fell and hurt himself, after his car accident…she was always there._

"_M…Mom?"_

_She came closer, her arms outstretched; hesitantly he reached out a trembling hand to her. She smiled, but the smile turned into a scream as her mouth opened wide and blood spilled down her chin, onto her white blouse, staining it dark red, just like that dreadful night when he found her dead on the hotel room floor. Tim fell back, but there was no escape, she loomed over him, emitting a high pitched scream that threatened to split his head wide open…_

_His hoarse whisper was barely audible._

"_Stop! I can't take any more…please…let me sleep, that's all I ask...please…"_

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It seemed to take forever to get a warrant for Kingsley's records, but in reality Gibbs knew that Vance had greased the rails and things couldn't have happened any faster.

Tony and Ziva got started on their part of the assignment, and Vance called cyber-crimes to get them working on the emails. Once they got started they found that Kingsley's computer files were protected by some pretty heavy encryptions. But every man and woman in the cyber unit worked through the day and night to get to the files containing email traffic.

It was 06.20 the next morning when Abby found what she had been searching for, grainy, fractured images, but it was still possible to see a man being dragged to a black SUV. He was struggling with his captors, trying to get free, his head was shrouded in a hood, but Abby knew; it was Tim, and when this footage was taken he was alive, he hadn't drowned in the river.

Abby couldn't wait to call the others and they came racing into the lab, eager to get a look at the pictures. They had a fleeting moment of pleasure when they saw Tim alive...but it took just another moment for reality to hit them. They still didn't know where Tim was, or whether he was still alive, and, grainy as the pictures were, it was plain to see that Tim was hurt.

"He's alive Gibbs!"

Abby couldn't help herself, she so needed it to be true.

"Abs..."

She turned away from him, not ready for what she knew he was going to say. Gibbs stepped towards her and took her hand.

"Abby, listen to me. Tim was alive when this was filmed, but we don't know when it was done, and we still don't have any idea where he is."

He could see the tears ready to fall again.

"There's still work to do Abs, cyber crimes aren't done yet, and anything they find, any possible lead...you know we won't give up."

"I know...but when I saw him...it...I want him home Gibbs."

"We all do Abs, believe me."

Ducky couldn't look away from the screen, his medical mind was assessing Tim's injuries. Mostly superficial cuts from what he could make out, but there seemed to be a deeper wound on his leg; someone had applied a bandage but even on these pictures it was easy to see that that blood was still seeping from the wound...and of course there was no way of knowing what internal injuries he may have suffered.

Ziva and Tony stood speechless as they watched their friend being man-handled into the vehicle. Their painstaking search through Kingsley's phone records had turned up a big fat nothing, several possible contacts, all of them now dead.

Tony suddenly leaned forward and stared at the screen, how could he have missed it?

"Boss, that car, did the FBI find it?"

Abby was already checking the evidence log.

"Yes Tony, it suffered some damage in the fire, but the FBI has it impounded."

"What are you thinking Tony?"

"You remember that blogger Boss, his car had an inboard computer...we...Tim and...we went to the Metro impound...he got the data, and we traced his movements, if this model has the same thing..."

"We could see where it's been, get on it Tony, and Tony...great work."

"Not yet Boss, not unless it helps us find Tim."

Two hours later Abby was working on the GPS data from the SUV, the others were pacing round the lab, ready to move the second Abby gave them a location. No one noticed the lab doors opening until Vance spoke.

"They've done all they can in cyber crimes, there was mention of a fallout shelter; underground bunker most likely, but no location."

Vance read from the piece of paper in his hand.

"We took the Fed to the fallout shelter; let him sweat for a few days. He could be useful.' That was sent eight days ago. The cyber unit tried everything to get a location, came up empty. How about you?"

Gibbs shook his head and went back to waiting, he hated waiting, he needed action, and they all needed to find Tim. Wherever this bunker was, Tim had been there for over a week, could he have survived this long? Had they left him food and water? He was about to ask Abby again if she had anything when her joyful cry echoed round the lab.

"Got it! Gibbs, get moving I'll send the co-ordinates to Tony's phone...near Bryantown, Maryland Gibbs, he was so close all this time...go!"

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_He was so cold now, and he wanted a drink, he needed a drink…but he had to wait a little longer, the water was nearly gone again, he only had the little he had captured in that last bottle, and he needed to save that for another day, if he could hold on for another day maybe they'd come… he pulled one of the blankets round him and tried to rest…they weren't done with him, his mother was back, and this time she wasn't alone, she was flanked by his dad and Sarah. Sarah was silent, but she was crying, the tears falling down her deathly white cheeks, and her tears were red, she was crying blood…Tim reached out his hand, his little sister, and he couldn't protect her._

"_I'm sorry Sarah."_

"_Don't give me sorry son, you let us down."_

"_No Dad…I didn't know. If I thought you could have been in danger…I would have protected you."_

"_You! Face it Tim, you put the gun in his hand, you killed his brother, he killed your family…it was your mistake, if you hadn't killed Benedict we would still be alive today, you can't deny that. How could you have protected us? Look at you, lying in this stinking hole feeling sorry for yourself; waiting for Gibbs, waiting for someone to clear up your mess. Take it like a man, you killed us, all of us…if you die in here, you're getting what you deserve."_

"_No Dad…please…you don't mean that…"_

"_Don't tell me what I mean! You always thought you were smarter than the rest of us, this degree, that degree…much good it did you… you're going to die alone, at least we had each other at the end…you, you'll have no one…who's going to mourn you Tim? They don't care; they're already getting on with their lives without you…"_

"_Please Dad…stop it please…don't…I can't take much more…I know…useless…"_

_He could barley get out the words, his voice cracking from lack of water, and pleading with his 'visitors', but this…his own father…every word he said was like a knife in his gut…and it was all true…He reached for the bottle of water…this was all he had left now, and there had been no more rain. It took so much effort just to open the bottle…he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer…he swallowed a mouthful, and after a second of cool flowing refreshment his mouth started to burn._

_He'd picked up the wrong bottle, what had he drunk? They were right, he was pathetic…couldn't even fill a bottle of water without screwing up…his throat was on fire, he was choking again. Wait...he was here…at last! Gibbs was here! Finally, he'd come to get him, to take him home…but those blue eyes had no warmth, they were like shards of glacial ice cutting his hope to shreds. He tried to pull away from that relentless gaze, but he had reached the limits of his endurance…he couldn't move…couldn't breathe…and those strong arms were pushing him under the water, down and down into the dark…the water was hot, boiling hot, he was choking, but Gibbs didn't let go, he pushed harder, forcing Tim under, and before the water filled his lungs for the last time he saw Tony and Ziva standing by, not lifting a finger to stop Gibbs, not trying to pull Tim out if the water…they let him fall, and this time he knew, he was falling to his death…_


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs drove as he had never driven before, out of the city and into Maryland; …every mile taking them closer to the SUV's destination. The three of them praying silently that Tim was in the bunker and that he was alive.

"We're here!"

Gibbs slammed on the brakes and was first out of the car, and was on his phone to Abby.

"Abs, you're sure these are the co-ordinates?"

"Of course Gibbs! He's there, he has to be."

They moved through the trees…there had to be a clearing nearby.

"Gibbs…over there."

Ziva was already running, and as the sound of a helicopter hovering above filled the air, Gibbs and Tony followed close behind, they had seen it too. The ground in the clearing had been disturbed recently, and someone had made a clumsy attempt to cover their tracks, but the leaves and twigs had been washed away by the heavy rain…it had to be the entrance to the bunker.

Gibbs knelt on the ground, frantically scraping the loose earth, and then he felt it, metal.

"Tony, crowbar."

He was talking to thin air, Tony was already racing back to the car, Gibbs glanced up at the sky; the Black Hawk was hovering, waiting for his order to land. Vance had scrambled the medevac chopper as soon as they had a location; they all knew, if Tim was still alive, he would need immediate medical attention.

"Here you go Boss."

Gibbs got the crowbar in position and levered the trap door open. He switched on his flashlight and directed the beam into the shaft.

"Ziva, get the chopper down, and wait here for the medics."

He climbed down the ladder and hit the floor a few seconds before Tony. Their lights illuminated a thick metal door secured by three heavy bolts; hardly daring to think what lay beyond, they threw back the bolts and opened the door.

It was the smell they noticed first, the stench of human waste, of bitter stale air, but not of decay…was he still alive? They raked their flashlight beams around the bunker, there was debris everywhere, a bucket filled with…a pile of old clothes…no wait, was that him? Gibbs inched closer, there was no movement, we can't be too late, let us be in time…

Then he heard it, like air escaping through a rusty valve, fitful, irregular, but someone was breathing…Tony had heard it too, and they both knelt beside the filthy bundle of rags that was covering him. Gibbs tentatively reached out and turned the…he almost thought body, but it wasn't a body, he was alive…just. He heard the stifled exclamation from Tony, at last they had found him; under the dried blood, the grime, the straggly growth of stubble on his face, it was Tim.

Tony rushed up the ladder and called out.

"We need the medics down there, now!"

He stood aside as they made their way down, he desperately wanted to be down there with Tim, with Gibbs, but there wasn't room for them all.

"Tony; he is alive?"

Staring into her red-rimmed eyes, Tony was ashamed to admit it, but he had completely forgotten that Ziva waiting up here.

"Only just...I should call...Abby...Ducky..."

His phone dropped to the ground, his hands were shaking so badly, he couldn't do this. As he stooped to pick it up a touch from Ziva's hand halted him.

"Let me Tony."

Her hand was only a little steadier than Tony's, but she was at least able to hit the correct buttons on her phone…

Gibbs joined them on the surface, his face etched with new lines of worry, he'd been in the way down there, but watching them pull away the filthy blankets to reveal Tim's bruised and bloody body…it had almost been too much. He didn't want to leave Tim, not again, but he had to let the experts do their job.

It wasn't long before they heard footsteps on the ladder. Two of the corpsmen were carrying Tim out on a back board, and the third was holding an IV. Tim's face was covered with an oxygen mask, and Gibbs heard Ziva's gasp as she got her first look at him. She had heard the expression 'more dead than alive', but had not really understood its meaning, until now.

"Gibbs…"

"I know Ziva…I know."

They watched the medics run to the helicopter, and as it rose into the air they could only stand powerless and hope that they hadn't found Tim, only to lose him again.

So intent had he been on watching the helicopter banking north towards Bethesda that Gibbs hadn't spotted four men walking purposefully across the clearing. Tony was the first to see them.

"Boss, it's Robinson's team; can we get out of here?"

"Let's go!"

The waiting room was quiet now, when they had arrived to find Abby, Ducky and Jimmy already here the room had buzzed with conversation, questions flying back and forth. But now, as time moved slowly on, and there was still no news of Tim, the brief euphoria of knowing he was alive was suddenly tempered by the reality of Tim's plight. He could still die.

He was so close now, right along the corridor, but he was as far away from them as ever, they still couldn't see him, and they needed to see him, to be convinced that he was alive…

After days, endless, grim days of thinking he was dead, then the euphoria of discovering him alive, they were all desperate to see him. But as the hours dragged by and there was still no news, the elation was rapidly turning to anxiety and despair.

Abby asked again, the question she had asked more than once since Gibbs and the others had joined the vigil.

"Gibbs, how did he look when you found him?"

He couldn't lie to her, not about this, but he didn't have to tell her the whole truth.

"He looked bad Abs, but like Ducky said, he's in the best hands; we just have to let the medics work on him okay?"

She was sitting between Ducky and Jimmy, holding on tight to Ducky's hand. That was the place that would normally have been reserved for him, but Gibbs knew that deep down Abby held him responsible for Tim's current situation. She was right too, if he'd got to his men earlier he could have saved them both, but he was getting older, slower...

"I need coffee...anyone else?"

He got everyone's orders and set off to do battle with the hospital vending machines, and he wasn't surprised to hear another set of footsteps fall into place beside him.

"How you doing Tony?"

"Me? I'm...honestly Boss? I feel sick to my stomach. What kind of warped individual would leave a wounded man in conditions like that?"

"If any of them was left alive Tony, you can be sure I would be asking them that exact question right about now."

Gibbs' fist hit the vending machine with a ferocity that had Tony fearing for his knuckles, but he could understand Gibbs' frustration and anger. Aside from being able to talk to Tim, there was nothing he wanted more than to beat up on the people who had left his friend to die, alone in that stinking hole.

Ziva gathered up the discarded cups and threw them in the waste basket, she just needed to be doing something, anything, she could not stand this waiting much longer.

The door opened, and at last a doctor entered the room.

"Nurse Fielding tells me you're all here for Agent McGee, is that right?"

"Tim…his name is Tim."

Abby almost sobbed out his name.

"Of course, I'm Doctor Stanner, ER attending physician. I've come to give you an update on how…Tim is doing."

There was an almost palpable intake of breath as they all waited for the long awaited news. The doctor sat down of one of the vacant chairs and faced them.

"Tim is in surgery right now…he…I do this kind of thing a lot, but this case, sometimes, the things people do…"

Doctor Stanner scraped his hand through his hair, and took another moment to compose himself.

"Your friend is in critical condition, but given how he's been treated it's little short of miraculous that he's held out this long."

Abby's grip on Ducky's hand tightened.

"When can we see him? Please, I need to see him."

"As I said he's in surgery, Doctor Patel is our best vascular surgeon."

Ducky leaned forward, a question on his lips. But Doctor Stanner forestalled his question with a glance.

"Let me explain what's been happening with Tim since he was found, and then I'll answer any questions, okay?"

Their attentive silence was all the answer he needed.

"It's been touch and go with Tim from the minute he boarded the medevac chopper. His throat was burnt and the swelling was closing his airway, there was no way the medics could intubate, they had to perform an emergency tracheostomy. So his oxygen supply has not been compromised…when we got him in the ER, we stabilised him as best we could, then we had to clean him up to see the extent of his injuries. He has numerous part-healed contusions, a severe gash on his right leg, three cracked ribs, thankfully, no lung injury, bruising just about everywhere, including his temple, so he could have a concussion. But, aside from the burns to his throat, Tim's biggest problem is infection. The wound on his leg is already showing signs of necrosis…sorry, doctor speak…the infection has caused decay in some tissue, Doctor Patel will debride the wound, remove the infected area, Tim's already on IV antibiotics, so we're fighting the infection on two fronts."

Ducky couldn't hold in his question any longer.

"How severe is the necrosis, has it spread to the muscle?"

"We don't think so…but we can't be sure until after the surgery."

Gibbs had been pacing the floor the whole time the doctor had been talking, he couldn't take this in, they'd got Tim back…he wasn't about to let him go again.

"How long, the surgery, how long?"

"I really can't say…"

"Gibbs…Special Agent Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs; they will have to be sure to remove every particle of infected tissue, and that's a delicate operation."

Ducky stood to shake Doctor Stanner's hand.

"Please forgive me, I should have introduced myself, I am Doctor Mallard, Medical Examiner at NCIS. This is very difficult for us to take in…Timothy…we thought he had drowned…over a week ago, when he was found, we thought…hoped…."

"I understand Doctor, and believe me, the minute we have him settled in the ICU, you can all see him, maybe not for long, but I'll make sure you get to see him. I need to get back, but I'll have someone come for you as soon as I can."

So they settled back to wait again, to watch the clock move minute by minute. The light was fading outside when the door opened once more.

"Sorry we've kept you waiting, but Tim's surgery took longer than expected. I'm Doctor Quinlan; I'll be looking after Tim from here on in. Let's take you to him, I know he's been isolated for a long time; it will be good for him to have friends around him. When can we expect his family to get here?'

Gibbs gave a deep sigh.

"Tim's family…they're dead…"

"I'm so sorry…then he needs you even more…follow me please."

Eagerly, they followed Doctor Quinlan to the ICU; he paused at the nurses' station.

"Before we go in, I want to remind you that Tim is still in critical condition, and because of his tracheostomy he is on a ventilator…it can be a lot to take in, when you see someone in the ICU…"

"Please Doctor; I just need to see him, please."

Abby could barely contain her excitement; she was going to see him at last.

"Of course, come on."

He led them to the nearest room and ushered them in.

Without a seconds hesitation Abby ran to Tim's bed; determined after so long without seeing him that she was going to kiss him, to hold his hand…But in the face of Tim's suffering all thoughts of her own needs flew out of her mind.

She knew it was him, but it looked so unlike the vibrant, warm, smiling Tim who had visited her lab that fateful morning. Abby let her hand hover over his chest, and the reality of what the doctors had told them took root in her mind. Tim was so sick they had cut his windpipe and inserted a tube, just so that he could breathe, this most basic of functions was beyond him right now. How could she think about herself at a time like this? She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Abigail, come, sit down."

"Ducky, he…he looks so…"

"I know my dear, but remember that until yesterday, we thought Timothy was dead. He is very sick, but he's alive Abby, and where there's life…"

He sat down beside Abby, scanned the monitors, and then he took his first close look at Tim, at the gaunt, almost ghostly figure lying before him. If Jethro had been a few hours later; Ducky shuddered as the image of Timothy lying on the table in Autopsy flashed across his mind. But he wasn't in Autopsy, Tim was here…but he looked so...he'd lost weight recently, and his features had become more angular, but now, he looked like a statue carved from marble, no flesh, so pale, could he really get through this?

Doctor Quinlan looked round at the stricken faces of the men and women around the bed.

"It's overwhelming I know, all the machines, the tubes…"

Ducky whispered.

"His temperature is awfully high."

"That's the sepsis, we've got Tim on IV antibiotics, but the infection had already taken a pretty firm hold. As I said, he's critically ill, and his obvious lack of nourishment over several days is not helping. We'll be keeping him sedated until we get his infection under control; don't want him moving about too much and disturbing the ventilator. Look, I have other patients to check on, I'll leave you for a few minutes; give you chance to take it all in, just remember, he's survived up to now on his own. Think how much willpower that must have taken, with the care he's getting now, and having you around…I'd say his odds on getting through this are pretty good."

Gibbs barely registered that fact that the doctor had left the room, it seemed as if everyone else in the room was slightly out of focus, and the only person he could see with crystal clear clarity was Tim. He'd done this, by making his choice that day; he'd exposed one of his team to injury, near starvation…total isolation…He must have missed something in his frantic searching, how had someone else found Tim when he couldn't?

"Boss? Boss, you okay?"

Had Tony been talking to him? He hadn't noticed.

"Not yet Tony, but I will be when he's awake."

"I'm afraid it's time for you to leave."

None of them had noticed the doctor return, on hearing his words Abby gave a vigorous shake of her head.

"No! I'm not leaving…Tim's been alone too long, I can't leave him now…"

"He won't be alone Abs."

Gibbs locked eyes with Doctor Quinlan.

"He needs us; you said that Doctor…we can take turns…"

The doctor could see that the people around the bed needed this contact as much as the ashen man lying there.

"Very well, until we get this infection under control, only one person at a time though, and I mean that."

They had to be content with that, and it was enough. So long as Tim was never alone, the rest of them could live with having to sit in the waiting room or the cafeteria, they just needed to be close.


	6. Chapter 6

The fever raged through his fragile body for a day and a half. With life-saving antibiotics, a machine taking on the burden of breathing for him, with the best medical care available Tim was still on the very edge of life. Had he been left one more day in that pit, one more hour, he would have died, of that none of them had any doubt.

Vance had come to visit, and had told them that one of the bottles found near the blankets that had been covering Tim contained diluted sulphuric acid…Tim must have drunk some of it…how else could they explain the burns to his throat? None of them had to say it, but everyone was thinking…what if Tim had drunk from that bottle a day earlier?

When the fever broke Doctor Quinlan relaxed his visiting restrictions a little, he allowed two of them to sit with Tim, but he warned them all.

"We're going to cut back on the sedatives, but I don't want you thinking that means he'll be awake any time soon. He's got a long way to go…"

So they waited again…waited for Tim to open his eyes. They all became accustomed to his regime, the blood tests, throat swabs, new dressings on his leg, checks on his trach tube, kidney function tests, an MRI scan to check on his concussion, it seemed like every hour there was someone else poking and prodding. It was hard to take at times, but the watchers knew that all this was being done for Tim's benefit, so they left the room when asked, helped out when asked, and all the time talked to Tim, let him know they were there.

It was coming to the end of their 'watch' when Ziva and Gibbs noticed some movement, was Tim coming round at last? After five days they were beginning to wonder if he would ever wake.

_There was a chaotic kaleidoscope of disconnected images; of freezing water, of pain, thirst, heat, torment, despair….he was choking, he had to get away_…

Gibbs was worried now, if Tim's thrashing got worse, he might rip out his IV, or worse dislodge the trach tube. He stood over the bed and laid his hand on Tim's wrist.

"Steady Tim, take it easy."

_He was back…still determined to tear at his flesh, to push him under the water…how to get away…he didn't know what to do…_

Tim's heart rate had increased so rapidly the duty nurse came running, with Abby following close behind.

"Gibbs, what happened?"

"I...I don't know Abs, I thought he was waking up, but, well you can see..."

Abby didn't waste any time, she leaned over the bed, laid the palm of her hand gently on Tim's forehead, and whispered, so, so softly.

"Tim, hush...it's Abby...I'm here...waiting for you, but you don't have to hurry back...rest easy Tim..."

And he did, Gibbs stood open-mouthed at the transformation. Tim was still and quiet once more, and much as he wanted Tim to wake-up, he hated seeing him so distressed. They could wait a little longer.

Satisfied that her patient was resting once more Nurse Kaplan headed for the door.

"Ten minutes people, then it's just two of you again, okay?"

"Duck, what was that all about? He looked terrified…"

"Timothy has been through an appalling ordeal Jethro; his physical injuries alone would have defeated a lesser man. We must remember, he also spent days locked in that dreadful place, not knowing whether he would get out alive…he's been in a medically induced coma, fighting an infection. I would suggest he was completely disorientated, he probably didn't even know where he was."

Gibbs hadn't taken his eyes off Tim, now lying quietly again, with Abby holding his hand and whispering soothing words. Maybe Ducky was right, but of one thing Gibbs was certain, when he tried to sleep, he would see again and again the absolute terror in Tim's eyes.

He could hear voices again, but they weren't screaming at him, they were quiet, gentle…he thought he knew them, but he wasn't sure…he opened his eyes again…to the light, at last it was light…

"Tim…oh Tim."

_He knew now, Abby._

"Timothy, it's Ducky…you've been very ill, and you needed help with your breathing, don't try to talk, there's a good lad."

_Why would he talk? He had nothing to say, he was drinking in the light, it was so long since he had seen…anything…his glance fell on Abby, and he was amazed to see tears falling down her cheeks, he tried to reach out his hand to her…but it seemed so heavy…he wanted to stay awake, he really did, but he was so tired._

Day by day Tim's periods of consciousness increased, the machines started to be removed, and eventually he was able to get out of bed. Only for a short time…his long imprisonment and subsequent coma had left him weak and his muscles had been wasting away through lack of use…very gentle physical therapy was all he could manage and they could see that even that caused him much pain and discomfort, but he battled on, seemingly determined to do whatever was asked of him, however exhausted he became.

He looked tired, the circles under his sunken eyes darker than ever, he hardly slept, always terrified that they would switch off the lights and leave him in the dark again…the first time he had woken in the night he had torn out his IV, and only the quick reactions of Jimmy and the night staff saved his ventilator from being dislodged, after that they left the lights on, but he still couldn't sleep, not without sedation…

He felt hollow inside…like there was nothing there, the machine that was his body was working again, but his spirit…he'd lost that day by inexorable day as he lay alone in the dark, tormented by the voices that hounded him…

It had taken time, and a great deal of persuasion from Abby and Ducky, but eventually he had been able to have Tony and Ziva sit with him, he was nervous at first…after all, they stood by…could he trust them? He wasn't sure, but he let them stay, let them talk…he didn't have to join in their conversations…he let their words flow around him, until they mentioned Gibbs…then he couldn't think, couldn't breathe…he put his hands over his ears…it didn't work, he could still hear them, but when he did that they usually stopped, changed the subject…and he calmed down again.

But he didn't speak…for a time the tracheostomy tube and his injuries wouldn't allow it, but the doctors, and the speech therapists were agreed, physically he could speak, but he hadn't made a sound since they found him, not even to cry out in pain, and he had been in pain, spasms had shuddered through his body, and tears had coursed down his cheeks, but whatever he suffered, he suffered in silence.

Gibbs was waiting again, but this time the waiting was harder than ever.

He hadn't attempted to enter Tim's room again since that first frenzied awakening. It didn't need much investigative skill to know why Tim reacted the way he did, after all, from Tim's point of view Gibbs had abandoned him...but the ferocity of the reaction had stunned Gibbs in a way he would never have anticipated.

Tim had always admired and respected him, maybe too much. Gibbs wasn't perfect; he knew that better than anyone. But ever since their first encounter in Norfolk when Tim was as green an agent as Gibbs had ever seen, Tim had watched him, and absorbed everything. He'd been a great student, good enough to step up as Senior Field Agent when Gibbs left...a brief smile lifted Gibbs' lips for a moment as he remembered Tim's ultra-white smile when he confirmed he was coming back. He closed his eyes, this was too painful.

He had watched Tim develop from the awkward, stammering Probie into a fine agent, a fine man; a man who stood by his friends…Tim had hacked the CIA simply because Gibbs had asked...oh, he'd given him his 'get out of jail' card, but he knew Tim would have helped him even without that. Then Somalia…he'd never told Tim how proud he was of the way he went with Tony to get Ziva; went into danger like he had never known before, to put the team together again; Gibbs had missed any number of opportunities to tell him, and now...Tim couldn't even bear to look at him.

He looked at the clock again, how many hours had he spent in this room? Way too many, but he was prepared to wait as long as it took, he had to speak to Tim, Gibbs, the functional mute had to talk, to try to explain what he had done that day…to erase from his mind Tim's tortured expression, but it wasn't just about him…he knew deep down that if Tim couldn't see him again, there would be no healing for either of them.

Ducky was in there now, trying to persuade Tim to see him, he could only wait…and hope. Ziva and Tony had come to wait with him; they knew how desperately Gibbs wanted to see Tim again. He'd been operating on auto-pilot since the day Tim woke that first time. Every day asking the others whether Tim was ready to see him...

"Timothy, you must understand, Jethro would rather have died himself than lose another member of his team. I don't know what you went through…I cannot even imagine how terrible it must have been for you, all alone for all those dark, dreadful days…"

Tim's heart rate was increasing; Ducky didn't have to look at the monitors to know that…he could see the panic and fear in those expressive green eyes. He gently placed his hand on Tim's wrist.

"Calm down lad…I'm sorry…it's too soon to be talking about that. But you need to know, Jethro tried everything to find you, everyone helped, but it was Jethro who led the way, who searched until it was impossible to see, who chased every tenuous lead, who drank himself senseless every night just so that he could get a few hours sleep. He wanted to save you Timothy, but Tony was hurt and you know…deep down, you know that if the positions had been reversed Jethro would have reached for you."

Tim shook his head, he knew that wasn't true, who would want him? Everyone knew he was worthless; they'd all told him, every last one of them, and no matter how much he begged them to stop they kept screaming and screaming…he was doing something wrong again, he could tell by the way Ducky was looking at him…

"It's true Timothy, his team means everything to him, and I mean every member of his team…I shouldn't be telling you this, it should be Jethro sitting here. I'm going to ask now, no, I'm going to insist, you need to see him, and if you don't want him in here, I'm very much afraid you're going to have to tell him that yourself."

Ducky hated talking this way to Tim, but they were trying everything they could to get him to speak, perhaps if nothing else, bringing Jethro in here may get Tim to use his voice at last.

Gibbs was on his second cup of coffee when Ducky opened the waiting room door.

"He'll see you Jethro...but do please go gently, he's very fragile."

"Has he said anything yet?"

"Not a word...it's very troubling. I'm hoping that your visit may prove a catalyst, get him speaking again."

Gibbs patted Ducky on the shoulder.

"I'll just be glad if he can let me be in the same room."

He hesitated at the door to Tim's room, he wasn't in the ICU any longer; but when Gibbs saw him sitting up in bed, leaning against his pillows, face turned away from the door, he couldn't honestly say that Tim looked any better than the last time he had seen him.

Unwillingly, Tim turned his head toward his unwelcome visitor. He looked beyond Gibbs, hoping to see Ducky, but no one else was coming. Could he believe Ducky? Was Gibbs here to finish what he started back in Virginia? Was Ducky telling the truth? Had Gibbs really tried to find him? He couldn't remember…he got so mixed-up; all he could remember was Gibbs pushing him under the water...that was real...wasn't it?

"Tim…don't please, don't look at me like that. I deserve it, I know…but…"

Gibbs couldn't find the words; inside he knew what he had to say to Tim, at home, at work, he could rehearse, amend…but faced with the fear in those piercing green eyes, words failed him. He had always been better with practical things, making sense of a crime scene, building a boat, even making toys…give him something to do and he would do it, but in the face of such raw despair, he was lost. He wanted to run, to get away from the thankfully living, breathing proof of his dereliction. His decision that day; hadn't even been a decision, it had been instinct. Tony was hurt, he had to be the priority, but was there more to it than that? Was it payback for Tony pulling him out of that submerged car? If Tim had been hurt, would he honestly have chosen him over Tony? He didn't know...and he hoped against hope that he'd never have to make a choice like than again.

A part of Gibbs wanted to run, to hide away in his basement. But he wouldn't run, his place was here, so long as Tim was calm, didn't pull away from him, so long as the blank look in his eyes was not replaced by a look of panic…he would stay, and he would try to put into words why he made his fateful decision.

Gibbs sat down beside the bed and tried to make eye contact with Tim.

"Tim...that day, what I did..."

Gibbs took a sip of his cold coffee, and tried again.

"When I saw you both fighting to get back on solid ground...for a second I thought I could grab both of you, that I've have time. Tony...he was hurt so I had to get him first, I had to...I came back for you, and you were gone...I ran along the river calling your name...but you were gone...because of what I did...I'd saved Tony, and lost you. That made me feel worse than anything since Shannon and Kelly...oh yeah...worse than Kate, I couldn't save her, she was gone before I knew it, but you...I had to look in your eyes and turn away...I did everything I knew how to find you, we all did. Vance even had the Marines searching...but we failed; and someone else found you...took you to that place."

Gibbs saw the glimmer of fear in Tim's eyes; he didn't need to be reminded of the bunker, Gibbs hurried on.

"We looked and looked, walked for hours...days...and every minute I was searching I could hear you asking me to save you...I failed you Tim, and everyone knows that...you haunted my dreams, I haven't had a minute of real peace since I let you fall; and that's how it should be, I made my choice, have to live with the consequences...but what you had to live with…You know how I feel about apologies."

Was that the faintest flicker of acknowledgement?

"I can't say I'm sorry for what I did that day, because even now, seeing you like this, I know I would make the same choice...but what happened to you after. Tim, for that I am sorry."

For a brief moment Tim looked into his eyes, but it was just a brief moment.

"Tim, I don't know how to make it right…maybe we can never go back to the way things were before…but there are some things I have to tell you, things I should have said before…You are one of the strongest people I've ever met, you know that? You take whatever we give you, and you learn from it, even Tony's stupid tricks…he misses you, we all do…but Tony… he uses the women and his frat buddies to mask the loneliness, but it's still there, he never had the secure family life that you had."

Tim's eyes became bright with tears, but he didn't turn away, so Gibbs continued.

"When you lost your family…I thought we were going to lose you, but you came back stronger than ever, because you had us, and we're so strong when we're together Tim. Like in Somalia…I never told you, I should have…when I saw you, you and Tony supporting Ziva, leading her to freedom...I wanted to tell you, but I didn't have the words…so I just said 'let's go home'…it wasn't enough…to do what you had done, coming from your background…it was outstanding, I should have told you how proud I was…am. Don't throw that away because of what I did…didn't do…I let you down…I left you behind…"

Was he getting through to Tim? He honestly didn't know, but Tim was calm and could at least look at him without fear, when he did look at him, his gaze always seemed to drift into the distance.

"Gibbs! Ducky said you were here. Tim, you look better today. I got a new book, but we don't have to read if you're tired, do you need a drink? Are your pillows okay?"

Gibbs felt drained, he couldn't remember the last time he'd said so much, he could only hope that his words would enable Tim to come back to the team, to find his voice again…He quietly left them together, smiling at Abby's own special brand of tender loving care. As he turned to close the door he noticed something, something that had been nagging at the back of his mind all the time he had been talking with Tim. He hurried to the waiting room.

"Duck, I need your help. We have to go outside!"

"Jethro, calm down...did your talk not go well? Of course if you need some fresh air, I am happy to join you."

"Not you and me Duck, we have to get Tim outside."

"Oh Good Lord Jethro! You're right...I should have realised...after days in that hell-hole...I'll speak to Doctor Quinlan."

Gibbs waited outside Tim's room, Abby was sitting with him, keeping up her mile a minute chatter; but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking past her, through the window. It seemed an age before Ducky returned, and Gibbs could see from his expression that he wasn't bringing good news.

"I'm sorry Jethro; Doctor Quinlan won't hear of it, he says it's much too early in Timothy's recovery, that he's not strong enough."

"Has he looked at him lately? You see it Duck, don't you?"

They both turned again to watch Tim. Ducky made his decision.

"Jethro, I'm going to get a wheelchair, you go and prepare Timothy."

When they told him he was going outside Tim smiled, almost…but it was the closest they had seen to a smile since he had woken…Ziva and Tony were holding the elevator as Gibbs wheeled Tim along the corridor. They knew this part of the journey would be difficult, and as he saw the enclosed space Tim's hands gripped tight to the handles of the wheelchair. Abby stepped inside.

"See Tim, it's okay, we have to go this way to get outside; it won't take long and we'll all be here, you won't be alone, come to me."

Slowly Gibbs wheeled the chair into the elevator, Tim held his breath…not long, please don't let it be long…

It seemed to take forever, but eventually the doors opened and he was in another antiseptic hallway, only this time he could see outside; he let out the breath he had been holding and reached out for Abby's hand, she hadn't lied to him, and soon, soon he would be outside. A sudden commotion halted their progress; two security guards flanked Doctor Quinlan as he stood in front of them.

"I told you, Agent McGee is not well enough to leave the hospital, you deliberately disobeyed me. Doctor Mallard, I would have expected better from you!"

Ducky was outraged.

"From me! Timothy is your patient, but have you actually looked at him this last week, not the monitors, not the charts, but him. He's not eating, not speaking, he only sleeps when he is given sedatives, are you seriously trying to tell me that he is getting better. Oh, his physical wounds are healing, I don't deny that, but look at him. He's exhausted, he needs real sleep, not medically induced, he fights against that, please Doctor; let us try, if he shows the slightest sign of distress I will bring him inside immediately. Please let us try."

Doctor Quinlan had been so angry when the nurse told him that against his orders, one of his patients was being removed from the ward, and his anger had propelled him to the lobby, gathering security back-up as he went, No one was going to undermine his authority, he would see to that. But, and it was a big but, he had watched Tim McGee's reactions when he had thought he was going outside, and more importantly he had seen that cold despair return when he thought he would have to return upstairs. He stooped down in front of Tim's chair.

"Is this what you want?"

The eager expression told him just as much as the single nod of Tim's head.

"Then you can go, but only if you stay with him at all times Doctor Mallard, I hold you responsible for his welfare, are we clear?"

"We are indeed Doctor, now if you will excuse us, the sun is shining, and we have to be elsewhere."

They hurried out of the doors before anyone else tried to stop them. Ziva pointed the way.

"I have found an excellent position; there is a small garden with lots of shade. Ducky says you must not be in the sun too much Tim, not after so long indoors, follow me."

She was right, it was excellent…lots of greenery, tubs full of brightly coloured flowers, and trees offering plentiful shade. Gibbs halted the chair under a chestnut tree whose leaves were swaying gently in the warm breeze.

"How's this Tim? You want to stay here for a while?"

He didn't even have to nod his head, it was obvious to everyone; he wanted to stay. Gibbs applied the brake, and Abby made sure Tim had a few sips of water from the beaker Tony had carried from his room. Ducky leant towards Tony and whispered a few words in his ear. With a broad grin, Tony went hurrying back inside.

Tim drank in the sights, the sounds of outside…how many days had he been indoors? Too many to count, but now…such glories, such colours…it was like being born anew.

Abby sat down on the grass beside him, and reached out for his hand. She was never sure whether he would take it or not, but today he accepted her gesture, and he held tight. Ziva turned away for a moment, why now? Why were the tears coming now? She had watched him for days, almost dying before their eyes, fighting to live, surviving, but at what cost? She had not cried then, she had tried to lend him her strength, to help him maintain his tenuous hold on life. She had seen him wake, grow a little stronger, seen the hollowness of his expression, waited for the words that never came, and still she had not cried, So why now, when he was smiling, really smiling for the first time, why was she crying? Because it was a glimpse of the man he once had been, and she was frightened, more frightened than she would admit to another living soul, that they would never get 'their McGee' back; that this hollow shell would be all that remained of their friend.

Tony came bounding back and dropped to his knees beside Tim's chair.

"So, the good news is, we have ice-cream! Bad news, it's vanilla, or vanilla, so I got vanilla. You want some Tim?"

Tim nodded and held out his hand for the dish. Tony carefully handed it to him, resting the dish on Tim's lap, he put the spoon between Tim's fingers, but he couldn't get a grip, his hand was shaking, and he was so weak. Tony took the spoon.

"Here Tim, let me help with that, it's a bit tricky when you're out of practice…"

Gently and painstakingly Tony got Tim to eat, only ice cream, but as Ducky had whispered to him 'ice cream is better than nothing.' About half way down the bowl, Tim put up his hand to stop Tony refilling the spoon.

"You done already? No problema, tomorrow I'll bring in something a little more interesting, Rocky Road maybe..."

Tony was stopped in full flow by the sight of Tim giving a huge yawn. Ducky had noticed it too.

"It's so warm out here, why don't we all take a little rest; sit down here for a while."

Tony and Ziva took their cue from Ducky, and settled themselves on the grass; Ducky and Gibbs sat on a bench, and Abby leaned a little closer to the chair. They sat quietly and listened to the sound of Tim's breathing as he closed his eyes and at last, he slept.


	7. Chapter 7

That day marked a turning point in Tim's recovery. He seemed more settled mentally, and he actually started to eat, tiny amounts at first, but a little more each day. They took him outside every day, and he flourished in the warmth of the sun. It seems that he wasn't yet ready to speak, and although he could sleep without sedation, he still had to be sure that they would leave on the light. Progress was slow, but at least there was progress.

The discussion turned to Tim's rehabilitation after his release from Bethesda, and his schedule for continued therapy both physical and psychological. As he was resting one afternoon following an exhausting physical therapy session Ducky broached the subject of life outside the hospital.

"Timothy, how would it be if you came to stay with me? I don't have as much room as at the old house, but I think we can still manage not to get under each other's feet too much."

Tim hardly had to think about it, he was desperate to get out of the hospital, but he knew he wasn't ready to be alone, not yet. He smiled at Ducky and gave a quick nod of assent.

"Good; I'll speak to Doctor Quinlan, and we'll have you out of here as soon as we can...what's wrong?"

Ducky was taken aback by the sudden change in Tim's expression; his contented smile suddenly replaced by that horrible blank expression that they had seen far too much these last weeks. What was going on inside his mind?

_He couldn't leave, he saw that now, he was safe here, they hadn't come for him; the bright lights kept them away, they liked the darkness...what if Ducky's house had dark corners? They would wait for him, and he couldn't stay awake all the time...he turned again to the window...He knew he couldn't stay here; he felt Ducky's hand on his shoulder._

"Timothy? Are you still with me? Can I get you anything?"

With a last lingering glance at the window Tim reached for the notepad and pencil on the bedside table. He gave one of his winsome smiles as the skull that adorned the top of the pencil wobbled as he picked it up, a gift from Abby; she was always trying to get him to smile, to communicate.

"In case you need to tell us something, or ask for anything, just, you know...write what you're thinking, whatever you like..."

But he'd never used it, he couldn't think of anything to write, he had been so confused. The voices had told him that no one wanted him back, that no one cared for him...yet they'd been here with him every day, waiting patiently for him to get better, to talk to them. His throat was still sore, he wasn't sure he could talk, it had been so long; he was sure of one thing...he knew what he had to do...

He opened the pad, and with a firm hand he wrote.

_I need to go back_

Ducky read the words, but he wasn't sure what they meant. Tim hesitated for a moment and continued.

_to the bunker, I have to know._

Gibbs was driving well within the speed limit, giving Tim all the time he needed to rethink this idea.

He sat in the back of the car, perfectly still, hardly seeming to breathe, to blink. As the car pulled up to a halt, a wave of dizziness flowed through him, he reached out his hand to Abby, and she held on tight, she could feel the slight tremors that were shaking his body.

"Tim, we don't have to get out of the car, Gibbs can turn around and take us home."

But Tim did have to do this, he had to know…he gave her one of the sad little smiles to which they had become so accustomed these last weeks, released her hand and opened his door. As he did every time he stepped outside, he raised his face to the sun, seeming to gather strength from its warming rays.

The other car had parked beside Gibbs, and Ziva, Tony and Jimmy joined them as they waited…it was up to Tim to set the schedule, they would let him take all the time he needed before he went back down there. They all followed Gibbs toward the clearing, and hesitated as Tim halted and gazed around, a puzzled expression on his face. It was no surprise, unless you knew where the bunker entrance was it was almost impossible to see it, and Tim would have been in no condition to register where they were taking him that day. He turned to Gibbs with the question in his eyes.

"It's right over here Tim; when you're ready."

Tim slowly walked in the direction that Gibbs had indicated, and stopped with a gasp when he saw it, a fresh wave of nausea, and uncertainty swept over him. Then strong arms were holding him, they'd seen him stumble, and Tony and Gibbs were first to his side.

Ducky took a quick step forward, he had to put a stop to this, he had doubted the wisdom of this move from the moment Tim wrote those words on his notepad. Abby held tight to Ziva's hand, they both wanted to drag Tim away from there, to take him back to the hospital, back to safety. But they held their ground and stayed silent, fearful of breaking the delicate hold that Tim had on his self-control.

At a look from Gibbs Tony released Tim, leaned forward and pulled open the trap-door. Tim shivered, and Abby couldn't contain herself any longer, she ran to him.

"You don't have to do this Tim, you've done so well to come this far...but you don't have to go down there."

He raised her hand to his lips, kissed it, and nodded slowly, tried his best to smile for them all, and took a step closer to the shaft entrance. Gibbs handed Tim a flashlight, the most powerful one he had been able to find, switched on his own, and directed the beam down the shaft.

"Tim, I'll go down first, you follow when you're ready, and if you want to stop, any time, you just say...okay?"

A shaky thumbs-up from Tim, and Gibbs started his descent. When he reached the floor, Gibbs realised he had been holding his breath all the way down. Was this a colossal mistake? Was it too soon? Did Tim ever need to see this place again? He heard Tim's first step onto the ladder, and then watched with an admiration he would never be able to express as this young man, often characterised as the geek's geek, the soft touch, demonstrated the steel within, and step by step came closer to the place that had very nearly become his coffin.

He reached the ground and Gibbs rested his hand on Tim's arm.

"Good work Tim, now...take a minute...deep breath, remember what Ducky said."

Gibbs opened the door, and for the briefest moment he thought that Tim was going to change his mind, that he would turn and climb back out of here. But instead Tim took a deep breath, wiped his hand across his suddenly damp forehead, and walked slowly into the bunker.

There was no smell this time, only the faintest whiff of antiseptic, Vance had ensured that the bunker had been thoroughly cleaned as soon as all the evidence had been collected, once the photographs chronicling the conditions under which Tim had survived...barely survived, had been taken; a cleaning team had moved in.

Gibbs stood back as Tim shone the flashlight beam to and fro, into each corner, up and down; he took two more steps into the room and slowly walked all around the confines of the bunker, raking his fingers across the metal walls.

He was back at the doorway, and Gibbs was stunned when, instead of walking out and back up the ladder Tim reached out to him and with a slightly trembling hand switched off Gibbs' flashlight. The only illumination now came from a single source. Tim turned back into the room, checked every corner once more, he inhaled deeply and switched off his flashlight. They were subsumed in total darkness, Gibbs hardly dared breathe, he listened intently as Tim moved around the room; then through the dark, empty silence, he heard it.

"N...no...more."

Gibbs did not move a muscle...the first words since he'd been taken by the river, but what did he mean?

"Tim?"

He didn't dare switch on the flashlight, not wanting to risk changing the mood…but there it was again, so quiet that he almost missed it.

"No…more...monsters..."

Gibbs heard the distinctive sound of someone falling to the ground, and as he switched on his flashlight he saw that Tim was crying, silent tears coursing down his cheeks. He laid the flashlight on the ground, knelt beside Tim and rested his hand on his shoulder. Tim didn't flinch, didn't pull away; instead, he reached out his hand to Gibbs, and Gibbs grabbed it as if it was a lifeline…this time he wasn't letting Tim go, he gathered him in his arms as the silent tears turned to heaving sobs that shook his body.

"I've got you Tim…let it out…I've got you."

As the sobs subsided he turned his tear-stained face to Gibbs.

"The men…they found me…kept asking…hurting…I asked them to stop, to help me…so many times I asked…Then they left me here...I called and...called...but nobody came...for the longest time...then they came...the monsters...they kept on stabbing, screaming...I begged them to stop...begged and begged…they didn't listen…

He slumped against Gibbs, the strength that had got him this far suddenly spent. Gibbs didn't let go, Tim needed comfort right now, he needed to know that someone was here; someone real...As Tim knelt on the floor, waiting for his breathing to retain some semblance of normality, Gibbs glanced toward the door, he had told the others not to come down here, not unless they were called. He didn't want to rush Tim; he wanted him to take as long as necessary before they left this place, but he knew the others would be growing more anxious with every minute they were down here.

"Tim…"

"I'm ready."

Gibbs helped him to his feet and Tim slowly made his way to the foot of the ladder; he hesitated.

"You…first…"

"Are you sure?"

"Sure…Boss."

Gibbs felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders…he had longed to hear that word, longed for Tim to feel that he could still call Gibbs, 'Boss'. The days and weeks of emptiness, of thinking that he'd lost Tim for ever, then finding him again, only to have Tim reject him…had been almost too much to bear.

Gibbs made his way up the ladder and was greeted by eager, anxious faces.

"Where is he Gibbs? Is he okay? Should I go down there?"

When Abby paused to take a breath she saw Gibbs' expression, and her smile matched his own. Then they heard the sound of footsteps on the ladder, they moved closer to the trap-door, ready to help him take those last steps.

Tim emerged into the daylight, Tony reached out his hand and Tim held on tight as Tony helped him up the last few rungs and out of the shaft. He fell to his knees, suddenly, overwhelmingly exhausted, he was shivering.

"Here you go Tim, let's get you warm."

Jimmy enveloped Tim in the blanket he had carried from the car, and Ducky shooed the others away, he needed to check on Tim…but Tim had other ideas, he struggled to his feet, gripped the blanket closer to him, and glanced around his…friends, yes he knew that now with certainty, they were his friends.

"The…monsters…they're gone."

His voice was barely audible, and it sounded raspy and dry from lack of use, but to those hearing Tim speak for the first time in so long, it was like the sweetest song they had ever heard.

To hear his voice again, to see a little of that haunted look leave his eyes. It was everything and more than any of them could ever have wished for. He was surrounded by smiling faces, words of support, of congratulation. They all knew there was a long, long way to go, but those steps into the bunker, they had been the first steps on that long road, and they would be with him every other step of the way, no one was letting him go, never again.

Ducky called a halt to proceedings, he was anxious to get Tim back to Bethesda before the inevitable reaction to today's events set in.

"Come along everyone, we've kept this young man out here long enough."

They headed back to the cars, Tim flinched slightly as he heard the trap-door close one last time, but Ziva and Abby kept hold of his hands and he carried on walking without a backward glance.

As he settled into his seat Tim tried to say something, but was overtaken by a fit of coughing. Gibbs grabbed a bottle of water, opened it and handed it to him. Tim hesitated.

"It's okay Tim, one hundred percent water."

He took the bottle and sipped slowly.

"Thanks Boss…and…what you said, back at the hospital..."

Gibbs waited, was this when Tim told him he couldn't work with him again, after what he'd done?

But Tim was smiling, a warm, shadow-free smile.

"Boss…apology accepted."

THE END

_What can be said at all can be said clearly, and whereof one cannot speak thereof one must remain silent._

(Ludwig Wittgenstein)


End file.
